


Healdend

by CreamMoon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Dragonlord Hunith AU, Episode: s02e13 The Last Dragonlord, M/M, Pre-Slash, bamf!hunith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 06:37:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12150789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreamMoon/pseuds/CreamMoon
Summary: Gaius having him sit down for the delivery did not cushion the blow, Arthur's sharp intake of breath revealing he was not the only one in the throws of disbelief."What do you mean it's my Mother?"





	Healdend

Gaius having him sit down for the delivery did not cushion the blow, Arthur's sharp intake of breath revealing he was not the only one in the throws of disbelief.

"What do you mean it's my Mother?"

***

Coming to grips with things on the ride to Essetir was not going well, both of them oscillating between voicing their disbelief and making disgruntled sounds over the mere thought. Hunith of all people? A Dragonlord? Was it Dragonlady? How could it be? She had no magic to speak of, or at least, none that Merlin had ever seen or felt from her. And yet, and yet...

And yet Gaius had told them that just the same, grim faced and tired as he delivered the news. There was no reason to lie.

"How could she not tell me?"

"How could you not know?" Arthur answers, Merlin glaring at receiving a question for a question. "Sorcery in your own household. Surely if she was doing something of that nature you'd have seen."

The warlock pursed his lips, rubbing at his eyes. There was something unspoken in the way that Arthur had phrased it that implied that Will had come to mind.

"You'd be surprised what a sorcerer can get away with when one is willfully ignorant."

Arthur shot him a strange look, his gaze flicking over him for an elongated moment before turning forward again. Merlin's stomach roiled. Perhaps he'd said too much.

***

Riding into Ealdor made Merlin's stomach twist, the juxtaposition of his former home against the thought of his Mother's secret power making everything feel off, as though he was walking in a dream.

Arthur seemed little better as they dismounted, Merlin catching sight of his furrowed brow and down turned lips before he took the lead. Walking down the path he knocked on his Mother's door, hands suddenly clammy with nerves.

Hunith answered, brow furrowing briefly before joy overtook her features. Without a word she enfolded him in a tight embrace, cradling the back of his head as she let out a happy sigh. "You should've sent word you were coming!"

"Unfortunately this was not a visit for pleasure's sake." Arthur addressed, tone brittle with fatigue. "May we come inside, my lady?"

Hunith pulled back with a quiet noise of disbelief at the question, patting Merlin's cheek gently before moving away completely and motioning for them to follow. "Of course, of course! What a silly question."

"Thank you, Hunith." Arthur murmured, giving Merlin a cursory look before going inside. Merlin stood on the threshold a moment more, mind still struggling to reconcile the woman before him with any thought of magical might. Dragonlords were, despite Uther's work against all things magical, well known throughout the lands as a heroic sort of people. They dealt with many harrowing threats to the land in the past, from Giants of long ago to as recent as invasions from across the sea not long before The Purge.

His Mother, a Dragonlord?

Taking a deep breath in he stepped over the threshold and closed the door.

She had always been a hero to him... But in this light he seemingly couldn't comprehend.

***

He sees it in her eyes when Arthur broaches the topic of The Great Dragon. Something about his Mother's gaze darkens, and though her face does not lose color he is certain that Hunith must know why they've come.

She stands after a moment, crossing to stir the stew she has on the fire. Though her face is not obscured it might as well have been for all he can read there. Hunith's brow is not even creased as it usually is when thinking. Merlin feels as though he is looking at a stranger standing in his Mother's skin.

"Hunith..." Arthur starts, clearing his throat quietly as he casts Merlin a quick look, clearly looking for his rock. Merlin admonishes himself internally at his presumptuous thoughts but the infernal voice at the back of his mind continues on about how right it is as Merlin nods to the prince. Afterward instantly Arthur is more confident in his words and Merlin cannot ignore the difference.

"Gaius told us who you are." She doesn't seem surprised, Merlin notices, though she shuts her eyes after setting her ladle aside, pressing her hand to the stones to the side of the hearth, just leaning slightly against them. "You must know we've come seeking aid."

Merlin watches like a hawk as she takes a deep breath in through her nose, his Mother pushing away from the wall and rubbing at her eyes. He doesn't know what to think of her in this position, this new, strange light. What has she kept from this besides? Who is she really?

"My lord," Hunith starts, her voice like steel. Merlin for a moment can't understand what he's hearing, the tone so foreign to his ears. "If you would allow it I would like to speak with my son in private."

Arthur's brows raise but the rest of his expression seems not terribly surprised by the request, the blonde man sighing softly before bringing a hand down onto Merlin's shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. "Of course. I'll tend to our horses in the meantime."

Merlin is shocked at how much he does not want to be alone with his Mother right now.

When Arthur is well away Hunith finally looks at him, her expression deteriorating into finally something recognizable. It's remorse, her brow pinched and a subtle wobble to her lips as she works to find the words. "I'm so sorry."

"How could you?" Merlin asks, his voice sounding far away to his own ears. "With what I am, _who_ I am, how could you keep this from me? Were you ever going to tell me?"

The look on Hunith's face alone tells him no.

Slowly she walked back to the table, sitting down across from him, reaching to take his hand. He jerks away, shocking himself with how he suddenly can't handle the thought of her touching him while dealing with this topic. The infernal voice at the back of his mind taunts him with thoughts of Arthur, and how perhaps someday he will react the same way to Merlin's own clandestine confession.

Hunith looks hurt, but her expression hides it quickly as she turns it toward something more like resignation. "How could I tell you, Merlin? This is my secret shame, my punishment... To lose my magic with my sister, my _brethren_. To live humiliated and cursed in obscurity."

Merlin's brow pinched, baffled by the information. Questions vied instantaneously for delivery, but all he could manage was to croak out one word: "Sister?"

Hunith's eyes looked wet and she took a moment to wipe at them with her sleeve. "Oh, Merlin..."

"Tell me." He pushed, leaning forward. "You must. Please. I need..." He needed no more lies between them so the pain in his chest could abate.

She turned her gaze downward, looking at her hands in a manner that baffled Merlin. It was an expression he'd only ever witnessed in the precious few times she'd spoke of his Father.

"Sister... as in my dragon. My match. My... Her name was Suliea." Hunith's lip wobbled dangerously. "She died protecting us, Merlin. I failed to keep her safe, I was too reckless. We were fleeing Camelot..."

"You what? We who?" He said, dumbfounded by the entirety. She was only handing him more questions.

His mother rubbed at her eyes. "I was pregnant with you... when... when Uther began things."

"Suliea plucked us from the ramparts but archers wounded her in flight... The hunters followed us to the border and she..." Tears broke loose then, Hunith quick to shield her eyes as she sniffled. "She stood against them, forcing me to escape."

Merlin sat quietly while his Mother pushed herself to cease crying, his hands shaky as he reached across the table to touch her arm. The ache inside him hadn't gone, but his heart could not stand the sound of her distress. "She forced you?"

Sobbing softly a few moments longer Hunith wiped at her face again, her cheeks ruddy with the lingering upset and her eyes red rimmed. "As I can command a dragon so too can a dragon command me... If we are linked. Suliea was matched to me completely, and I could not disobey when she sent me away with her Voice."

Merlin pressed his fingers against his eyes, rubbing gently as he took a deep breath in, letting that information sink in to his already overwhelmed mind. At least one clear thought came to mind, one that was more pertinent to their plight than any others. There would be time for his other questions... he hoped.

"Will you be able to control him at all?"

Hunith stared at him a good while before dropping her gaze to the wood between them, her lips pursed. "I am the last.. That makes me the Healdend... All the power... in theory... should have passed to me upon my kin's deaths."

A magical inheritance? That was the first he'd ever heard of such a thing. The bafflement must've been plain on his face, for when she looked up again Hunith gave him a wan smile, curling her hand over the top of his and giving it a squeeze. "I'm sorry, my darling... For everything I've kept from you... But I will do my best." Taking a deep breath in she sighed out the last of it, withdrawing and standing up. "It's time I did right by my family."

***

Hunith sent Merlin outside with the request of privacy, though for what she failed to specify.

"...so?" Arthur asked quietly when Merlin approached, the prince having been idly petting Hengroen as his manservant appeared.

Merlin stared at him silently a while, unsure of where to begin. Only so much of the information had digested, so in lieu of parroting back what his Mother had told him for the time being he just replied in a brittle tone: "She'll help us."

Arthur scrutinized him a moment before sidling closer, seeming unsure about what he intended as he invaded Merlin's space. After a while he spoke again. "...and you?"

"I?" Merlin questioned, too distracted by his thoughts to make the leap.

The prince's hand settled on his shoulder again, Arthur finally forcing him to meet his eyes. "Are you all right, Merlin?"

The warlock stared at the shorter man, feeling odd for how shocked he felt at even being asked. Was he? The hand on his shoulder was warm, Arthur sometime in his waiting having removed his gloves.

"...with time, maybe." He admitted, not knowing if he could voice how he felt without feeling a horrible hypocrite given who he would be airing such grievances to. "It's still a shock."

"What did she tell you?"

Merlin felt his stomach roil as he tried bring the words to his lips, looking at Arthur as his eyes started to feel wet, the stress of the whole situation beginning to wear on him obviously. "There's... it's a lot..."

The prince just looked at him, lips briefly pursing as he slid his hand up and cupped the back of Merlin's neck, thumb momentarily rubbing against his nape before stilling. It was clear Arthur was trying to be patient with him, the warlock finding a mirror of his own stress in Arthur's eyes. They were both a mess. Their flight from Camelot had not been easy, fraught with dragon fire and the scent of burned flesh, the screams still ringing in Merlin's ears hours later.

"She thinks she can do it... being the last." He tried, pushing himself to at least provide _something_ while they waited. "She told me... about her dragon... and a bit about Camelot."

Arthur's brow furrowed at that. "...what _about_ Camelot?"

Merlin cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to keep his gaze from breaking from the prince's. He felt far more nervous than he should. "...she was from there, apparently."

His master looked baffled, his head whipping to the side to stare at the side of the house, as though it might provide answers. "There were never Dragonlords in Camelot."

"...and there wasn't a dragon beneath the citadel." Merlin murmured, trying to be gentle about it. "Impossible things, eh?" He felt his knees weaken just saying it, and he leaned against the wall of the house, rubbing at his forehead as the horses shifted and nickered quietly.

Arthur didn't seem terribly pleased with the comment, but he said nothing in response, instead slowly withdrawing before mirroring Merlin's lean and closing his eyes.

The door to the house opened a moment later, footsteps heralding Hunith's approach. They both turned, Merlin's breath catching in his throat in surprise as he clapped eyes on her. She was clothed in rich riding gear, a gray tunic offsetting the bodice she wore over it, the leather dyed a deep green there in contrast to the deep brown of her leather breeches. She stood tall beneath their scrutiny, absently rolling her sleeves up as she began to speak. "Come eat. You'll need your strength."

***

Dinner was awkward.

The table had been moved over, and now where it had once generally sat his entire life there was a literal hole. A hole in the dirt floor that evidently, up until the very moment that he'd been sent out of the house, held the remnants of his Mother's life in Camelot.

He couldn't help but stare at the gaping maw in the dirt as he continued to shovel stew into his mouth, Arthur little better off. Hunith had finished up long before the both of them somehow, sitting quietly cleaning a pair of knives that looked as expensive as her riding leathers. Merlin didn't quite know what to do with himself. Did he want to ask more questions? Did he want to ask them in front of _Arthur_? The questions that had already been answered were making his chest tight and his stomach hurt, the name _Suliea_ rattling around in his brain like a swarm of bees.

"...you know... your ability with a sword now makes a great deal of sense." Arthur suddenly observes quietly, Hunith stilling in the midst of her sharpening, gaze flicking up and flitting over the prince's features, uncharacteristically shrewd. Merlin's master looks mostly passive in the observation, no malice to the tired expression he now sports. Sighing through her nose she sets back in on the blades, evidently finding no offense with the statement.

"I trained a great deal in combat when I was young. Never felt I had a knack for it." Hunith responded after a moment or two, thumbing the edge of the blade briefly before sliding it home into it's well worn sheath. "If you four had not come to help, there would've been little I could do for Ealdor."

"Well, you could hardly petition my Father... but honestly, to this day I can't understand why you sent for Merlin." Arthur admitted, Merlin flushing with shame at being thought of so poorly as to not being even capable of defending his own Mother. If only Arthur knew. "Were you hoping that the cavalry would arrive due to where he was placed in my household?"

Hunith snorted at the notion of manipulation of that caliber, finishing with the second dagger and putting it away as well. "I know how it must look, with who I am... But I sent word to Merlin because I was uncertain of my survival, and wished for him to know my circumstances. Nothing more."

The lie was smooth, fortified by the truth to it.

***

The ride out was largely silent till about halfway to Camelot, Merlin's dam of shock finally breaking apart. "Mother...?"

Hunith turned her head slightly where she rode in front of him, acknowledging him with a questioning hum.

"Is... what you've said about my Father..." He swallowed with difficulty, clearing his throat as he worked to not lose his nerve. "Was it true?"

His Mother blinked, gaze falling to the side before she lifted her chin and fixed her eyes forward. "No, Merlin."

Merlin had thought his chest couldn't ache worse than it had been, and _yet_. The silence hung a while before the Dragonlord took a deep breath in, her voice tempered to a lifelessness that made Merlin shiver. "Your Father, Merlin, was not a sorcerer. He was the son of a prominent blacksmith... But he was working to become an apothecary beneath Gaius."

The manufactured tone deteriorated slightly as she continued. "Balinor was a gentle soul. I don't believe he'd ever entertained an evil thought."

The words clawed at his lips, trying to get out the second he entertained them. Merlin wasn't sure he could handle knowing... There was no doubt in his mind that Uther had to be responsible for it... But how had he...?

"...how did he die?" Merlin is shocked to find Arthur the culprit who has stolen his thoughts and voiced them haphazardly, the blonde man not meeting his eye as his manservant stared at him. "I understand if you would rather not answer..."

"He was helping the magical servants to get away when the order came down." Hunith answered with little delay, her voice back to that empty sound. "By association alone I'm certain he would've been condemned... But aiding and abetting was just as easy to use to warrant a murder."

Arthur's mouth was a tight line as he listened, his eyes dropping to stare down at his hands where they were clenched about Hengroen's reins. Merlin wished she hadn't answered for all their sakes.

***

When they reach the outskirts of Camelot the smoke is thick and it is a struggle to resist gagging on the scent of charred flesh as it lingered on the hazy air. Kilgharrah is flying high, looking to lay into the citadel with more flames as people scurry below, trying to douse the innumerable fires. Without a word Hunith swings out of the saddle and trudges forward, her shoulders squared and head held high.

The roar that comes from her mouth scares both men out of their skins, Hengroen and Merlin's borrowed mare stepping back nervously with the sound. Somewhere amongst the jarring noise are words, guttural ones, that Merlin cannot place from any language he's ever heard. He watches terrified as his Mother continues walking, throwing her arms out to the side as though she were conjuring something large. Perhaps she is, in fact, the way Kilgharrah jerks midair, a shrill cry tearing from his golden throat.

At that sound the horses become more nervous and resist holding their ground once more. Despite their training and years of experience they can no longer stand the sound of the monsterous predator, Arthur and Merlin scrambling from their backs before they can be bucked asunder. Hengroen and the mare bolted for the tree line behind them as soon as they were able, leaving the two men to stand in the dust and smoke as the beast descended.

Hunith's shoulders shake with effort, eventually allowing her arms to drop to her sides as Kilgharrah swoops low. For a moment Merlin thinks his Mother might die, razed like so many of Camelot's citizens. But the Healdend throws a hand out in front of her, roaring in the face of The Great Dragon as he opens his mouth and the flames lick the back of his throat.

As suddenly as they'd ignited they were quenched, The Great Dragon letting out another enraged sound, landing with enough force to shake the ground, Arthur haphazardly pulling his sword from his scabbard as Merlin resisted the urge to cry out in alarm.

If only Arthur were unconscious he could help her! Protect her!

"How _dare_ you." Kilgharrah spits, fangs bared like a rabid dog. "You are _nothing_ , how _dare_ an insignificant urchin command _me_! Rob _me_ of my revenge! My recompense!"

Hunith's sneer is audible, yet another sound that has never graced Merlin's ears before this moment. This woman is truly not his Mother now, but the Dragonlord they sought to quell the dragon. "As fate has so kindly provided, I am now your Healdend, and with that I hold every right _Kilgharrah_ , Deceiver."

The barely contained rage before them makes the air nearly electric, Kilgharrah slamming his claws into the earth, it looking fit to split from his temper alone. "Twenty years! Twenty long years I have suffered at his hands!! I will have my payment!!"

"You have it." Hunith hissed, throwing out a hand at the raging beast again, as though she might quell The Great Dragon's fury with will alone. "It is not you who will bring this time to an end. You are a fool to think you might manipulate such things."

She roared again in that strange tongue and Kilgharrah roiled visibly with displeasure, throwing his head and opening his wings wide in an intimidating display. Hunith only looked on, pointing then suddenly behind toward the far mountain ranges. "You will go, find your heart and mind again, and be at peace with my decision. There is nothing more for you here."

It seemed as though Kilgharrah was resisting whatever power the Healdend position entailed, finally after a long and harrowing moment flapping his wings and taking off with an anguished cry, the sound piercing their ears and making them stagger with the sheer power of the sound. Hunith stood unmoved still, head turned to watch the dragon's path.

Arthur and Merlin share a look, seemingly both having the same thought at how odd it was to be utterly useless to a situation for once.

***

It's entirely unexpected when the King rides out.

They'd gone to catch the horses and had been negotiating how it might work out (Merlin and Hunith taking the mare back to Ealdor whilst Arthur delays whatever inquires would follow) and were caught unawares by Uther and five of Camelot's knights.

Merlin feels fit to faint at Uther's expression alone, let alone having to consider how he would get his Mother away. Noticeably Arthur puts himself between where Uther sits astride his horse and where Merlin and Hunith stand.

The King looks murderous, an expression rarely seen these days beyond the council chambers. "You."

"Good morning, Uther." Hunith greets placidly, as though she were not addressing the man who ruined her life. "Fancy seeing you here. Come this way often?"

If Merlin weren't so frightened he might've realized that his sarcastic mannerisms clearly came from Hunith despite what he'd thought before. It was rare that Hunith ever took a dry tone, let alone was sardonic in any manner.

"You think that I will thank you for this?" Uther spits, as though he remains unconvinced that Hunith truly had had any effect on this outcome.

Hunith snorts and rolls her eyes, shocking most of those present with her candor, Uther's face purpling with the slight. "I expect nothing of you, Pendragon. You're just as blind as you were when I last saw you, frothing at the mouth and chomping at the bit just like that blasted beast I sent away."

"You're fortunate your heir has his Mother's mind." At this mention Arthur stiffens, and suddenly Merlin is concerned for a whole new list of reasons. "Had he not come when he did your entire Kingdom would be perfect pickings for Mercia and Essetir..."

Uther hissed through his teeth at the statement, his hand going to the hilt of his sword, Arthur clearing his throat awkwardly as he made to begin speaking. "Father, what matters is that the dragon is gone..."

"And how can we trust that she will not return it to our lands when her whims deign so?" Uther bites back, Arthur wide eyed with shock despite the already open hostility carved upon his Father's features. "Magic might've warded the beast for now, but how can one trust a _sorcerer_ such as this?"

Hunith snorted and Arthur felt sweat roll down his neck, his brow furrowing as he gestured emphatically behind him. "If she wanted to do us harm what would be the point in stopping the dragon!? Why would she simply not turn on us as soon as she had it well in hand!? There is no point in a long game, Father!"

"Enough of this." Hunith sighed just as Uther uttered the same words, drawing his sword. Merlin looked to her in alarm as he felt magic rise from her, the sensation so familiar and yet so foreign as it emanated from the Dragonlord. Panicked by his Father's response Arthur backpedaled, reaching for Merlin and Hunith as he moved. Merlin grabbed his forearm unthinkingly, Hunith's eyes lighting with a green glow that shocked him when he turned to look at her again. He had heard Dragonlords were not exactly cut from the same cloth as sorcerers, but with so little information he hadn't really believed it.

Reaching forward she splayed her fingers, leveling Uther with her bright stare. "I'm sorry, Prince Arthur."

"Hunith don't-!" Arthur started reflexively, Merlin reaching toward his Mother in alarm as suddenly that language poured from her mouth, tone like steel as the magic swelled around her. When the last word left her lips Arthur froze, eyes wide and mouth still open as he was forming his words, Uther frozen mid-downward swing.

Eyes still alight with burning green, Hunith leveled a hard look at the knights where they sat upon their horses horrified before giving Merlin a brief look. Something in her expression had a note of regret (but not much), the Dragonlord summoning what looked to be a fireball that she threw at the ground before her, a pillar of fire bursting up and obscuring her from view. The men screamed, the horses bucked and cried out, and Merlin felt Hunith disappear.

***

Arthur and Uther remained frozen hours later, and when their postures began to finally relax, the spell seemingly wearing away with time, there was a furious response. A band of Knights were sent out to seek out the last Dragonlord and assure that their lands were secured, Uther thundering through the citadel as though he were possessed.

Merlin sat at Arthur's bedside throughout, staring down at his hands and wondering at why he was not able to unravel the spell.

His answer came when Arthur could finally speak.

"...she commanded me."

At first Merlin couldn't understand it, how could she have commanded either at all? The spell had not felt powerful, mind control of any caliber a difficult thing to manage for the best sorcerers. "What?"

"It's no wonder she apologized." Arthur muttered, stretching his sore muscles and massaging at his jaw, looking terribly stiff as he went about it. It was a wonder he could even move with how rigidly he'd been held. "Didn't you hear her, Merlin?"

"I heard the apology." Merlin replied, still dumbfounded as he stared at his master, wondering what exactly Dragonlords were capable of. Were they capable of commanding Men as well as dragons? They were certainly kin to both, but how could that possibly not have come up? "And the spell she said."

"That wasn't a spell." The prince said, tone firm as he looked Merlin in the eye. "She said 'Pendragon be still.' How could you not have...?"

The pair stared at each other for some minutes, a creeping realization dawning.

"Surely it isn't-"

"Is it possible that-"

They both stalled their sentences, eyeing one another with apprehension.

"Could we be...?"

"I think... maybe?" Merlin replied tentatively, squirming in his seat at the strange connotations it bred in his mind. "Perhaps... perhaps the genealogy might...?"

"Yes... yes perhaps..." The prince murmured, rubbing a hand over his mouth a moment later.

So many questions left, and yet no one left to answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Trust me when I say I had no idea this was going to be this long nor this involved. I definitely want to revisit this with a more Merthur centric part, but for now enjoy the glorious bamf!Hunith stuff.


End file.
